


Coffin Shopping

by ribcage



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark, Dark Molly, F/M, Gen, Humor, Idiots in Love, Molly didn't forgive Sherlock for the Christmas party, Molly is in on Jim's plans, Romance, Sebastian and Toby are buds, Sebastian has to put up with Jim and Molly's relationship, Sebastian's POV, Shopping, meaning fun dark not abusive dark, molliarty - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-03 18:37:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12152466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribcage/pseuds/ribcage
Summary: Sebastian could only imagine what the other, mostly ancient customers perusing the store must be thinking of the couple in their thirties, bubbling with laughter and fooling around as they ran about in search of the perfect coffin.





	Coffin Shopping

**Author's Note:**

> AHH OMG HI. This is my first time posting anything for this pairing. Background info: I'm working on a fic which will hopefully one day be completed and posted for you all to read (!) where Molly did not forgive Sherlock for humiliating her at the Christmas party, but rather turned to Jim for help and joined his side. This oneshot could really be a deleted scene from that fic. I hope you like it, and if you do, kudos and comments would be much appreciated!

They even found a way to make _coffin shopping_ nauseating.

Honestly, Sebastian was beginning to wonder if this Molly Hooper character was some sort of witch. He'd been working for Jim Moriarty for over a decade, and not once had he seen his boss so… _happy_. And the two had only been involved for a little over a month! Granted, Moriarty had met Miss Hooper about a year ago, went on three dates with her and had sex even, but it wasn't until Sherlock Holmes ruined her Christmas that she came over to the dark side.

Although, Sebastian wasn't sure how much he could really call it that anymore, considering they did not have cookies, but rather one James Moriarty giggling with a skinny little pathologist as they browsed a selection of small coffins.

Really, he hoped Molly did have magic powers. His boss being under a spell would be a lot easier to swallow than the idea he might actually be capable of falling in love.

"What about this one?" Jim asked, stopping in front of his newest prospect. Sebastian stood back a little more than necessary. If his boss called him out on it, he would reason Miss Hooper had a habit of stopping and jumping up and down excitedly at unexpected times and he did not wish to bump into her. But really, he just wanted some distance from _the happy couple_. “Does this scream ‘Molly Hooper’s eternal resting place’ to you?”

Molly chewed her lower lip and cocked her head. Her hair was curled today, and the springs fell around her shoulders with the movement. Moriarty reached out and hooked one around his index finger.

When his boss had dated her last spring as Jim from IT, Sebastian had duly noted from staking out their dates this woman's proclivity for baggy, badly-patterned jumpers. Since striking their deal on Christmas, Molly had begun presenting herself more professionally, letting her hair down from its ponytail, dressing in attire more suited to her figure and which gave her an air of confidence. (Sebastian would know; his boss had given him direct orders to buy Miss Hooper any and every item of clothing she expressed interest in. The cashiers at Victoria’s Secret were beginning to _know_ him.) This was only around Moriarty, of course; at work, she had to keep up appearances as Sherlock's doting admirer with zero self-esteem and the fashion sense of an old cat lady.

"Mmm…" She shook her head. "Too varnished. We need something plain, something like…" She scanned the perimeter and, somehow still managing to catch Sebastian off guard, jumped excitedly. "That!" She pointed down the aisle, grabbed Moriarty's hand, and tugged him along. He widened his eyes playfully and allowed it.

Sebastian could only imagine what the other, _mostly ancient_ customers perusing the store must be thinking of the couple in their thirties, bubbling with laughter and fooling around as they ran about in search of the perfect coffin. He hadn’t attempted to guess what other people thought around his boss in a long time; he generally assumed they were experiencing one iota of what he experienced every second of every day. Today, however, when it wasn’t just Moriarty but _Jim & Molly_…

Sebastian shook his head, crestfallen, and followed after them.

"Now this will tell Sherlock right off the bat it's for me," she said with total self-assurance. Moriarty nodded once to the men assisting them. They glanced at the production number on the coffin then promptly led the group toward the back. As they walked, Molly turned to the consulting criminal and asked, "The real question is: how will _Little Holmes_ react?"

Moriarty seemed much more interested in watching Molly’s facial expressions than he did in squandering a single thought on the secret sister. Her smirk was playful and her brown eyes were alight with mischief. "She'll be delighted, of course," he said easily. He was in a calm mood today—so far, that was. "'Daddy helped me with my games! Daddy bought me a coffin for my brother's pathologist!' Such a broken child. It's sad, really."

Molly's smirk transformed into a genuine smile. Sebastian had quickly picked up on how much the pathologist enjoyed hearing his boss put down the so-called most brilliant Holmes sibling. Seb himself? He preferred not to think of Eurus at all. That his boss had tricked her into sparing Molly Hooper's life mere hours before Molly Hooper sent him that fateful text... Well. Not only was it more proof his boss had deep feelings for the woman, it also made this whole thing sound way too close to what romantic types might call “destiny." Like they were—ugh— _meant to be_ or something. Sebastian had been scratched up on Toby Patrol while his boss and his girlfriend were in the bedroom one too many times to ever enjoy their relationship.

"But—Jim." They'd reached the back room now. A woman with a measuring tape motioned Molly forward. She obeyed and held her arms out like she was on the cross, then looked at her boyfriend and exaggerated a pout. "I thought she was an 'era-defining genius.'"

Moriarty shook his head as though he was disappointed in whoever came up with that diagnosis—he probably was, Sebastian realized—and watched as Molly was measured for her coffin. "Something tells me she'll gladly relinquish her title when she starts seeing ghosts years on down the road."

Molly's smile softened. As much as he loathed their cutesiness, the one good thing Miss Hooper’s presence had done for Sebastian, the sniper would acknowledge, was save his job. Apparently, his boss had been planning a suicide mission for years up until he got that Christmas SOS from Molly. Sebastian wasn't sure what exactly had happened after he picked her up and brought her to his boss's hideout, but he did know that by the time Miss Hooper was back home in her flat for the night, Moriarty was tipsy and wistful, talking about how maybe—despite his childhood rewrite of the classic Christmas story—there was such thing as miracles after all. Sebastian, used to his weirdness from years of being his right-hand man, simply went along with it. But his boss continued, going on about how “I _knew_ she wasn’t ordinary, I knew it since we watched _Glee_ together" and “we saved each other from ourselves, Seb, isn’t that nice?" and something about that summer still not being the right day to die, after all.

In the last days of the year, with Molly by his side, Moriarty had explained the new plan to Sebastian, how he was going to fake his death on St. Bart's roof with Molly's aid, go into hiding, allow Sherlock to dismantle his brand, then build up from scratch. There was something in there about Little Holmes losing her game and being taken care of "later," but that wouldn't come into play until years down the road. Sebastian put two and two together and concluded that, if not for Molly, he would've been facing life on the run, not to mention an eternity of boredom. He'd never tell Jim, of course, but the man wasn't always a complete pain in the ass. Seb had been his number one hitman/bodyguard/assistant for over ten years; he couldn’t imagine his life without the Irish mastermind. Even if it did mean becoming his secret girlfriend's cat handler.

Keeping her arm extended so as not to mess up the tape measure, Molly pointed at him seriously and said, "I will convince you to let me in on the action if it is the last thing I do."

Moriarty ripped the "DO NOT TOUCH" sign off a piece of operating equipment and leaned against the structure (he was dressed down in jeans and a T-shirt today; no Westwood to worry about keeping in order). He rolled his head around and made a noise in the back of his throat as though he was considering it. "Give me one good reason I should let you near her."

"Well, you'll have already been messing with her for weeks; her _gifts_ won’t work anymore. By then she'll have realized you're alive and be expecting you to make a move—in the form of a grand entrance. What she will not be expecting is the mousy little pathologist to march in and kick her ass. I know how much you love surprises, don't you, Jim?"

The consulting criminal made a face and conceded with a shrug.

"Think of it. Think of the look on Scary Super Villain Eurus Holmes' face when she realizes you did not see her as an equal, but that you played her. For me, of all people. She'll finally see how obvious it was. She'll finally see she's not brilliant at all."

Moriarty’s dark eyes undoubtedly grew darker with lust. He shook his head, crossed the room in quick strides, and said in a low, possessive tone, "I love it when you talk dirty to me, Mollikins." The woman taking Molly's measurements took a step back as Moriarty grabbed his girl by the waist and pulled her in for a heated kiss. Molly, quite the contrast to her pre-Christmas self, kissed back enthusiastically, returning the handsy gesture.

The assistants glanced at each other nervously. It was clear they were both frightened of this man and taken aback by his erratic behavior. They looked like they didn’t know what to do with themselves.

Sebastian tilted his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You," Moriarty tapped Molly on the nose with his index finger, "my dear, are spending the night. Sebastian will see to it you're on time for work in the morning, and he fetched extra Old Molly clothes from your flat weeks ago, so you’ve got no excuse."

Molly smiled happily, her thin arms wrapped around his neck, and murmured, "As you wish, Mr. Moriarty."

In that moment, Sebastian was certain of three things.

  1. Sherlock Holmes fucked up _big time_ at that Christmas party.
  2. Whatever it was the new power couple was plotting, the Holmes siblings should be very, very afraid.
  3. He had another night of Toby-sitting to look forward to.




End file.
